Master Flea quotes

Once upon a time⁠—But what author will venture to begin his tale so nowadays?

Obsolete! tedious! Such is the cry of the gentle, or rather ungentle reader, who wishes to be plunged at once, in medias res, according to the wise advice of the old Roman poet.

But Mr. Peregrine Tyss seemed inclined to nothing less than marriage, for besides that he was in general averse to society, he showed more particularly a strange idiosyncrasy towards the female race.

The mere proximity of any woman would bring the perspiration on his forehead, and if actually accosted by a tolerably handsome girl, he would fall into an agony that fettered his tongue, and caused a cramp-like trembling through all his limbs.

Hence, perhaps, it was that his old servant was so ugly, that, in the neighbourhood where Mr. Peregrine Tyss lived, she passed for a wonder in natural history.

By the advice of tried friends, Tyss sent his son to the university of Jena, but when, after three years, he returned, the old man exclaimed, full of wrath and vexation, “Did I not think so?

Hans the dreamer he went away, Hans the dreamer he comes back again.

” And so far he was quite right, for the student was substantially unaltered.

In vain he was warned by Master Flea, who sat in the neckcloth of the enamoured Peregrine, and had hid himself in a fold. Peregrine did not hear his voice, and

Master Flea learned what he ought to have known long before: namely, that something may be done with the most obstinate man, but not with a lover.

The lady did, indeed, lie on the sofa, just as the old woman had described, and Peregrine found that no mortal language was adequate to the expression of the heavenly charms which overspread the lovely figure.

The editor, however, may safely declare, that, after he too had peeped through the keyhole, and seen the fair one in her fantastic dress of tissue, he can say nothing more than that Dörtje Elverdink was a very pretty little puppet.

But as no young man can possibly be in love for the first time with any but an angel, without her equal on earth, it may be allowed also to Mr. Peregrine Tyss to look upon Dörtje Elverdink as something celestial.

“Recollect yourself, my dear Mr. Tyss; think of your promise.

Upon this he hurried up the stairs into his chamber, where he gave himself up to his love thoughts, but with these thoughts returned the doubts which had been raised in his breast by the admonitions of Master Flea.

There was, indeed, a flea in his ear, and he fell into all manner of disquieting meditations.

He thought to himself, “Must I not believe that this lovely creature is the Princess Gamaheh, the daughter of a mighty king? But if this be the case, it is folly, madness, to aspire to the possession of so exalted a personage.

“At length I see you again!” lisped the little one, and contrived to nestle up so closely to Peregrine, that he could not help embracing her most tenderly in spite of all his good resolutions. His senses seemed ecstacied by love and joy.

It has often happened to a man that in the height of his transports he has hit his nose somewhat roughly, and, being suddenly awakened out of his heaven by the earthly pain, has tumbled down again into the vulgar world.

Just so it chanced with our Mr. Tyss. In stooping down to kiss Dörtje’s sweet mouth, he gave his nose, of goodly dimensions, a hard blow against the diadem of shining brilliants, which the little one wore in her raven locks.

as for example, “Favour me with your advice,” the thought being, “He is fool enough to think I ask his advice in a matter that I have long since resolved upon, and that tickles him.”

“I have the most perfect confidence in you,” the thought being, “I knew long ago that you were a scoundrel,” etc.

It should also be mentioned that many folks mightily puzzled Peregrine with his microscopic observations. These were the young men, who fell into raptures upon everything, and poured themselves forth in a torrent of splendid phrases.

He imparted his observation to Master Flea, who usually sat in a fold of his neckcloth, and

Master Flea was of the opinion that what Peregrine took for thoughts were in reality none, but merely words, which in vain endeavoured to become thoughts.

If Mr. Tyss began now to amuse himself in society, his faithful companion also laid aside much of his gravity, and exhibited himself as a knavish little voluptuary, an amiable roué.

“Nothing will ever come of this,” exclaimed Peregrine violently, well knowing what the old woman was driving at, and rushed out of the room, and then out of the house, with great vehemence.

It is an established custom, that when the hero of a tale is under any violent agitation, he should run out into a forest, or at least, into some lonely wood, and the custom is good, because it really prevails in life.

Hence it could not be otherwise with Mr. Tyss, than that he ran from his house without stopping, till he had left the city behind him and reached a remote wood.

Moreover, I do not well understand what you call wonders, or in what way you are able to divide into the wonderful and natural, the appearances of our being, which—in reality—are ourselves, as we and they mutually condition each other.

Do not, therefore, wonder at anything because it has not yet occurred to you, or because you fancy you do not see the connection of cause and effect; that only proves the natural or diseased obtuseness of your sight, which injures your perception.

But—do not take it amiss, Mr. Peregrine—the drollest part of the business is that you want to split yourself into two parts, one of which recognises and willingly believes the so-called wonders; the other, on the contrary, is mightily astonished at this recognition and belief.

“Not a drop!” exclaimed Pepusch, interrupting the well-meant counsel, “Not a drop!

Has water ever been poured upon boiling oil without increasing the fury of the flames?

I am disquieted, you say? In truth that may well be the case; how the devil can I be otherwise, after having exchanged shots with my bosom friend, and then sending a bullet through my own brain?

“Oh Peregrine!” cried Master Flea, “the will of man is a frail thing; a passing air will break it. How immense is the abyss lying between what man wills and what really happens!

Many a life is only a constant willing, and many a one, from pure volition, at last does not know what he will.

You will not see Dörtje Elverdink, and yet who will answer for it that you do not see her in the very moment of your declaring such a resolution?”

“Fool that I was!” exclaimed Master Flea, persisting in the ebullitions of his extravagant joy, “

Fool that I was to doubt of the victory where no battle was needed.

Why, you had conquered in the moment, when even the death of your beloved could not shake your resolution. Let me shout, let me rejoice, for all must deceive me if a bright morning sun do not soon arise, which will clear up every mystery.”

that she cannot express how much, how immeasurably she loves him; that she lives in him only; that he is her only thought, her only joy.

But the crafty demon is wont to thrust his dark claws into the sunniest moments of life⁠—nay, to utterly obscure that sunshine by the shadow of his baleful presence.

Thus it happened that evil doubts arose in Peregrine, and his breast was filled with suspicions. A voice seemed to whisper to him, “How!

Let the dark spirits have determined what they will in regard to you; their power is fruitless against pure love and unchanging constancy. What will—what can—disturb a love like ours?

It is the talisman, before which the nightly images all fly.

”

At this moment Rose appeared to Peregrine like a higher being, and each of her words like the consolations of Heaven. An indescribable feeling of the purest delight streamed through him, like the sweet mild breath of spring.

He was no longer the sinner, the impious presumer, which he had before held himself; he began to think with joy that he was worthy of the love of the innocent Rose.

The bookbinder, Lemmerhirt, now returned with his family from a walk.

With this I can, for my part, boast of a peculiar sort of wisdom, which in general is wanting to you children of men—that is,

I never do anything out of season.

To bite is the principal business of my life, but I always bite in the right time and right place; lay that to your heart, my worthy friend.

With this I can, for my part, boast of a peculiar sort of wisdom, which in general is wanting to you children of men—that is, I never do anything out of season.

To bite is the principal business of my life, but I always bite in the right time and right place; lay that to your heart, my worthy friend.

“I will now back from your hands, and faithfully preserve the gift, intended for you, and which neither that preparation of a man, called Swammerdam, nor Leeuwenhoek, who wears himself out with petty envy, could possess. And now, my honoured Mr.